


To serve

by Shiary



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Family Feels, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-02
Updated: 2018-01-02
Packaged: 2019-02-26 16:32:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13239690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shiary/pseuds/Shiary
Summary: Gladio escorts Noctis and Prompto back from an afternoon at the arcade.





	To serve

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [To serve](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/348222) by Kaciart. 



> I should be writing for my fic but I can’t get Kaciart's latest, fantastic, art out of my brain so here you go

Gladio sighed as he watched Noct and Prompto try to beat their latest high score for the fifth time. The two boys had been trying for the last two hours without success and Gladio was starting to get seriously bored.

“Okay, that’s enough you two.” Gladio sighed after the arcade screen flashed the 15th game over. “It’s getting dark and Ignis is waiting for us at the apartment. Let’s head back.” 

Noct groaned at Gladio’s reminder but shoved the plastic gun in the holder, grabbed his bag and turned to his Shield with a tired glare, “Fine, fine.” Prompto copied Noct’s actions with a grin.

The trio made their way through the streets of the city slowly. Prompto and Noct keeping a steady stream of chatter while Gladio hung back a few steps and kept an eye on their surroundings. He didn’t know what it was but his instincts were screaming at him to be alert and if there was one thing his dad always told him was ‘always listen to your instinct’.

He kept his eyes roaming like he had been taught, returning on suspected areas at random. It was on one of those random returns to a street corner that he spotted the old beat up sedan, one he had seen three times including where it had been parked by the arcade.

“Noct-” Gladio called out, just loud enough for the prince to hear, “-remember our last training yesterday?” Noct looked over his shoulder and nodded slowly, eyes narrowing in confusion.

Gladio took a deep breath, letting it go slowly as he kept the sedan in sight. “Remind me to make you practice your sagefire strike. Your last attempts were horrible.” Noct’s step faltered for a split second before he nodded and tightened his grip on his bag.

Prompto looked between Noctis and Gladio with a confused look in his eyes but he was sensitive enough to pick up on the sudden tension that appeared after Gladio spoke. When Noct shifted closer to him, Prompto knew something was up.

The attack was well planned and sudden. The sedan stopped in a screech of burning rubber right beside the trio as they waited at a red light. Gladio pushed Noctis behind him as the door slid open, revealing three taser-armed people jumping to the street.

“RUN!” Gladio roared, rushing forward to tackle the attackers back into the sedan. He couldn’t afford a glance to check see if Noctis had done just that as his muscles seized. Meaningless words were shouted and Gladio forced his seizing hands to grip the attackers tighter.

The last thing Gladio sees is the back of a taser wand rushing toward head. The last thing Gladio feels is pain exploding through his skull. The last thing he thinks is,  _Please let them be safe._

When he wakes up, it’s to freezing water in his face. Its knifes slicing through his flesh while questions are screamed at him. It’s moments of waking up again, mouthing words, names but never hearing anything. It’s a flurry of pain that tear into him at every second he can remember and soothing blackness when he can’t.

\-------

“...dio! Gladio!” Someone’s hands cupping his face gently brings him back to painful reality. The hands are warm and kind, thumb brushing away tears Gladio hadn’t even been aware of until that moment. “Gladio?” his dad asked.

“Dad... I’m sorry. I’m sorry...” Gladio started to mumble. He’s not sure what he’s saying. He’s not sure what he has said. He doesn’t remember...

Clarus shifts and pressed his forehead against his son’s. “It’s okay. It’s okay. You’re safe now. You did good Gladio. You kept Noctis safe. You did good.” He keeps talking to his son as Cor cuts through the rope holding Gladio to the metal chair. 

He picks his son up in his arms, the way he had when Gladio had been five. Clarus kissed his son on the forehead and walks out, leaving Cor to deal with the bastards responsible.

Clarus had a son to take care of.


End file.
